A friend from Phoenix sent me these pics with this note...
"A cat in Harrisburg has a special friend that visits every morning."
How did I miss this?
Oh yeah, I don't watch the local news.
Because you have to see eight gruesome shootings and stabbings each day, just to get to the "Finally, they say hard times make for odd bedfellows and here's proof...a cat has seemingly befriended an affable deer in...blah blah blah."
By that point, I'm near-catatonic, up aginst the bed's headboard with my knees drawn up to my chest, eyes looking propped open with toothpicks and I'm seeing afterimages of the carnage of the latest drug killing, the jaws of life covered in blood at the roadside, children with incurable cancer and everything else.
It's bad enough watching the BBC news, which I only do occasionally. Europe, I'm sorry you're freezing over. That's such a medieval thing. It used to happen a lot. I'm remembering a Cole Swensen poem about that.
And I bet that doctor was forced by Al Quaeda to commit that suicide mission. From all accounts, it was not something he had in him. They probably threatened the lives of his family and made him do it.
Anyway, here's the cuppycake news.
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